Stratford-upon-Avon is a town for my liking, with all its centuries-old houses and narrow alleys packed with tiny specialist shops. Antiques dealers sell floral teacups and play old scratchy vinyls at the marketplace. You can find Hamlet by the riverside, pondering over the meaning of life, while everyday life goes on as normal around him – narrowboats drifting about and tourists clicking away with their cameras. The local library is right next door to Shakespeare’s birthplace; if that won’t turn you into a world-class author, then I guess nothing will!

There’s a interior decor shop in a country chic style, filled with soft shades of cream and light brown, and a matching dog drowsing at the door. Behind a red door you can find an astonishing magical world of owls, spells and homemade Butterbeer. In one shop, it’s Christmas every day, all year round. That’s a lot of “fa la la la la”! We almost step into a wedding boutique to try on some frilly princess dresses. That would make for a nice message home: “Sorry Mum, I’m staying here!”

It’s one of the prettiest days of the summer, and if we had proper costumes and someone to row a boat, we could have positively Austenesque moments on the river. The flocks of swans look hilarious when they’re swimming past right next to the river’s edge, with only their heads and necks visible. There are red, black, green narrowboats and trees with hanging branches that are cut in a straight line like a fringe. The Cadbury van sells Crunchie ice cream that pops in your mouth.